


Vacation Plans

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Series: Pretty Much the Same [5]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: The Characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Vacation Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

It didn't take years of friendship, a loving and devoted relationship, or feminine intuition for Yuri to know when Flynn's job was getting to her. In the offices and courtrooms she might be all determination and iron will dressed up in a fuck-not-with-me attitude, but, once she'd made it out after a really long week, month, or however long it took for a particular case under her care to get beneath her skin...the stress showed. When she walked into the apartment, purse in one hand, pumps in another, and briefcase tucked beneath her arm, Yuri immediately set her bowl of cereal aside on the coffee table and opened her arms in invitation.

Flynn heaved a sigh. It only briefly alleviated her slump, and didn't even erase it entirely. She dropped all the things she'd been carrying next to the door—one more sign that she was fed up with absolutely everything—and trudged across the living room, arms dangling lifelessly. Walking like that, she looked like a zombie, and Yuri couldn't prevent a snort of laughter escaping as Flynn collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the corner where the armrest met the back of the couch. Yuri wrapped her up in a hug, rubbing her back through the layers of the uniform of legitimate employment—camisole, blouse, and suit jacket.

Arms limp at her sides, legs curled half in Yuri's lap and half on the couch, Flynn sat still and gathered herself. She'd buried her face in the crook of Yuri's neck, and her breath tickled warmly as it slid beneath the loose collar of an old, cotton t-shirt. Yuri let her stay that way until a soft groan indicated that she'd gotten what she needed from silent comfort. Lips pressed briefly against the base of Yuri's throat as Flynn slipped out of her arms to lie across the couch. She left her head pillowed on Yuri's lap, eyes closed, one hand curled loosely on top of her thigh just below the hem of her shorts. She sighed softly as Yuri began stroking her hair.

“Long day, sweetie?”

The question held a sincere offer to let Flynn vent, but Yuri never had gotten the hang of pet names. They always came out sounding sarcastic. Luckily, Flynn didn't seem to notice.

“It's this case,” she groaned. “The suspect is guilty as sin. Our case against him should have been air-tight, but his snake of a lawyer—!”

“Hey, aren't you a lawyer, too?”

Flynn pressed her face into Yuri's thigh. “I'm a prosecutor. It's different.” If it sounded like she was pouting at all, Yuri was good enough to consider it merely a result of her voice being muffled. “The other guys are snakes,” Flynn continued. “We're mongooses.”

Yuri couldn't help it. She laughed. Flynn's head bounced upon her thigh, and she cracked open one annoyed blue eye. Normally, Yuri loved gazing into Flynn's eyes more than she would ever admit. Today, with the levels of irritation flashing there, falling into Flynn's eyes would be more like dropping into a pit of spikes. She tried to force back her laughter, and offered: “Mon _geese_?” Her voice only barely shook with repressed amusement.

There was a moment when Yuri thought she'd fucked up, that the situation was serious enough for Flynn to regard levity as a personal attack. That moment passed, and humor broke through the exhaustion on Flynn's face. She grinned, laughing weakly as her eye slid shut once more.

“Pretty sure it's actually mon _gooses_ , like I said.”

“That's stupid.” She kept petting Flynn's hair, feeling her breath warm against her thigh. Flynn's hand was barely stirring, knuckles rubbing over her skin in gentle gratitude. “Well, at least soon you'll be able to get away from it for a while.”

Flynn went very still. She hadn't been moving all that much to begin with, so it took Yuri a moment to notice, and even then, it was more the prolonged silence that drew her attention. Carding her fingers through Flynn's hair, she reached the end of a lock and tugged.

“Flynn?”

“That was the other thing,” she mumbled. Pinching the hem of Yuri's shorts, she curled a little tighter in on herself. “Don't be mad.” Although she spoke the words softly, they were undeniably an order.

It was Yuri's turn to sigh. “Who the _fuck_ canceled your vacation? Let me guess, it was that dickhead, Dinoia, right?”

“Would you _listen_ to me before you go insulting my boss?”

Flynn was glaring up at her, that angry sharpness back in her eyes. Yuri scowled and demonstrated how supportive she was being by holding her peace long enough for Flynn to go ahead and try to explain.

“A date has been set for Ragou's trial. I know you've been looking forward to our trip—so have I—but I couldn't just let someone else take this case. I screwed up the first time. I need to see this through and be sure he's punished for all he's done.”

Yuri rolled her eyes, slumping back against the couch. “Of course you'd have a decent excuse.”

“It's not an excuse.” She nuzzled Yuri's thigh. “I wouldn't have canceled our vacation without a good reason.”

“I know.” She started petting Flynn's hair again.

“I'm sorry.”

“Forget it.”

It wasn't even missing their vacation that had pissed her off so much as the thought that someone had forced Flynn to cancel when she worked twice as hard as anyone in that office and needed the break. She'd earned a week away from court cases and criminals.

“We can go another time,” Flynn suggested.

She was still trying to cheer Yuri up even though she was the one who was fed up and overworked, even though she was the one who had spent so much of her free time planning this trip. Flynn had been so excited about it, even more than Yuri, who could only barely afford to take a week off. Looking down over her—black stockings over toned calves, the rucked-up skirt of a three piece suit almost the same brilliant blue as her eyes, a hint of crisp white dress shirt beneath a suit jacket that hadn't been meant for collapsing onto couches and was now riding up her side, messy blond hair that was so much softer when Flynn didn't fill it with gunk to make it lie flat—Yuri couldn't help but smile. Wrapped up in that package of frazzled prosecutor was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She patted Flynn on the shoulder.

“Make room.”

Without question, Flynn lifted her head from Yuri's lap, allowing her to pull her legs free and shimmy down to stretch out between Flynn and the back of the couch. They shifted and shuffled, fitting themselves together and trying to get comfortable between the cramped quarters and inflexible attire. When Flynn propped herself up, Yuri was right there, sliding her hands beneath the jacket to slip it off and let it fall to the floor. They lay back down together, Flynn's head tucked beneath Yuri's chin. As her fingers started slipping through choppy blond locks once more, Yuri made a request.

“Tell me about the trip.”

“I'll have to cancel. I don't know if we'll be able to do everything when we have time to rebook.”

“Big picture, then. You're good at that.”

“Mm. All right.” She snuggled a little closer. Her arm was warm across Yuri's back. “We'll go someplace warm. I know you don't like the cold. Someplace tropical with soft, sandy beaches.”

Yuri pictured ocean waves, crystal clear and as blue as Flynn's eyes. She smiled, and kept that particular detail to herself.

“We can go scuba diving together—see all the different fish and coral—play volleyball on the beach, I can catch up on my reading—”

“You'll have to bring a bikini. Let your tummy get a little sun.” She pinched Flynn playfully on the side and her hand was knocked away.

“My tummy is fine the way it is. I'd rented us a private beach house, though, meaning if you didn't want tan lines....” She let Yuri follow the thought to its obvious conclusion.

“Meanwhile, you'd just be enjoying the view?” Flynn hugged her a bit tighter. “Maybe I could be persuaded to join you for just a little sunbathing. At night, we could go for walks along the beach beneath the stars.”

“Now you're just being sappy.” She ruffled Flynn's hair, and Flynn shoved her arm back, tilting her head up to smile at Yuri.

“You're the one who asked!”

“That was before I knew you were a closet romantic!” She grinned, teasing. “When were you going to tell me, huh, Flynn?”

“I've _been_ telling you, you jerk!” Her eyes widened with mock outrage. “Were you tuning me out this whole time?”

“Only the mushy bits.”

“You—!” Flynn laughed. She stretched up, threading her fingers through Yuri's hair to draw her in for a soft kiss. When they parted, her eyes were far lighter than they had been when she'd arrived home. She searched Yuri's face, and must have been happy with what she found there, because her grin was as brilliant as any fine day beneath a tropical sun. “You're a jerk,” she said softly.

“Yeah, well.” Yuri didn't really have an argument for that. Instead, she hugged Flynn close for another kiss.


End file.
